The Arizona sentinel., 1887-01-15
IN THE WILD WEST.
Adventures of an Old Hunter Who
 Was Scalped.
How He Supposed Himself Twice Dead Three Angry Bears Fighting to
 Finish-the Fate of the Victor.


 Finish-the Fate of the Victor.
 It has often been said that man can not live after being scalped. One of the Crow Indian scouts with Custer be- fore that brave officer met his fate, was caught by a party of Sioux alone on the prairie and scalped alive. His enemies cut pear-shaped piece out of the crown of his head and left him writhing in agony, supposing he would, of course, die. Notwithstanding all of which, the redskiE recovered, and at last accounts was living with his people on the Crow reservation and doing well. There is an old hunter in Western Montana whose cabin is located on the eastern slope of the Rocky mountains, who had his hair raised some years ago by band of savages, and yet he lives and thrives in most astonishing good health. The old fellows name is Ganzio, and by reason of his advanced years would, in the natural course of events, have white hair now, only that he has no hair at all to speak of. Still, what little he has got, is whitened or gray, the rest of his head, ''where the hair ought to grow" being as bald as billiard-ball. To be exact, Ganzio did not lose his entire scalp, but only a portion of it. The probabilities are that he could not have survived with the loss of the whole top of his head. Some few years ago, when Sitting Bull was master of this country, Ganzio was the guide of an emigrant party en route to Fort Lar annie, Wy. T.
 The story of that dangerous expedi- ton is an exceedingly interesting one, and as related by himself runs as fol- lows: ''One day we were coming into the valley of Hut creek, on our way to Fort Laramie, when we thought we saw Indians coming down the creek to the right. Instead of camping there, we thought it safer to water our stock and go on to the hills and make dry camp in the bushes. I had been sent on ahead up to the hill to reconnoiter, and took with me a boy named Kountze, from Omaha, merely for company. We sat down to wait for the wagons, which were slowly coming up out of the val lev When the wagons reached us l started on alone through the rocks and pine bushes to seek a good camp. A few hundred yards further on looked down ravine to the right and saw five mounted Indians ride across the valley. 1 started to go back to the train, when at least dozen Indians ran at me out of the brush, and you bet 1 ran and called for help. In a minute more two or three of them shot at me. I felt a sharp, stinging pain in my right leg, and another in my left shoulder, and 1 fell. Then they were upon me in a minute, and one of them put his knee on my back while another hit me a clip with club. Another struck me with the butt of gun, and then l became partly unconscious. Still l had reason and feeling enough left to know that was being scalped; for the hair held so tightly, and the pain was so awful, that could not die then even if I wanted to. I felt hot, stinging pain all around the top of my head the hair being torn out by the roots, so to speak-and it was too much. l died, or at least I thought I did; but as it hap pened my scalp, or a part of it, was saved just as it was being torn off. The boys at the wagon had seen me run ming; saw the Indians, and came at a run-thirteen of them, arriving just in time to prevent the red devils finishing their work. The Indians, as well as my friends, thought I was dead, but came to again, and what was left of my scalp was laid back in place. It was only half torn off you see, and the place is pretty well healed now"
 '"What did you do with yourself af- terward?'' I inquired.
 "Why, I hurried into Fort Laramie, got the attention of a physician and went back to the States for while; but the Western fever came strong upon me again and I had to return to the noun. tains, where I have been ever since.
 Observing four bear-skins on the f1ool (two of them immense in size-one g grizzly, one a silver tip and two cinna' mon hides), I made bold to ask MT Ganzio if he was the slayer himself ol whether they had been obtained from somebody else.
 '.No," he replied, q did not kill then all. but bagged two out of four-tht grizzly and the silver tip; and the other two cinnamon brutes were killed by tho very silver tip l killed myself. J
 That was remarkable occurrence, , ventured to say, ''and if you have the time to spare, Ganzio, l should like tc hear the stories connected with all four"
 Well, you see," began the old timer s'the grizzly hide over there on tn boards was killed more than twenty